Monday, January 21, 2013

A Letter to my Babies When They're Grown

Dear sweet babies,

When you were born, our dusty old computer had only three programs: Word, Solitaire, and E-Mail. There was no Pinterest, blogging, or internet forum to help us solve your problems, decorate your nursery with the latest trends, or record your milestones for the world to see. It took 3 hours to download a picture on something called "dial-up", and we still had real film in our cameras. There was no cell phone app to tell us what fruit size you were each week in gestation, and no website available to upload weekly baby- bump photos to share with far-away relatives. We were at the cusp of a new technological era, and by the time you were in Kindergarten, everything had changed! But your first years were spent in the dark ages of technology.

With each of you, I was given something called a "Baby Book" to record all of your milestones in. This journal that captured your "firsts" was a standard gift at baby showers. I did my best to write things down in them, however, I'm sorry to say that I failed you all miserably.

This is the reason for my letter. I want to apologize for the blank pages in your Baby Books.

Son, being the first born has its privileges. I did the best with your book, and I got most of the way through the first year. But girls, by the time you came along, things were happening so fast and furious, that I never wrote it all down. Whether sleep- deprivation or forgetfulness is to blame....the bottom line is, your books only have the first few pages filled out. For this, I am deeply sorry.

This is in no way, shape,or form a reflection of my love for you. On the contrary, I was so enamored with each of you that I didn't have time to pick up a pen and dig your Baby Book out of the closet to write things down in it. I was too busy living in the moment. I was too busy wiping your noses, kissing the boo boo's, and nibbling your sweet little toes after I changed your diapers.

The pages of your book aren't blank because I wasn't proud of you. No. I was beaming with admiration for you. I was the obnoxious parent who told the cashier at the grocery store your height, weight, and head circumference. I cooked you for 9 months in my belly, sacrificed my bikini body, birthed you from my loins, and nourished you at my breast for a full year. With God's help, your dad and I made a tiny person, for goodness sake, and I wanted to show you to the whole wide world!

I might not remember when you got your first molars, but I'll never forget your first word. It was "Dada"... for all three of you. I birthed you. I nursed you at 2 am. I changed 95% of your diapers, and your first word was still "Dada". It torqued me to no end and made your daddy beam with pride.

I might not remember the exact date that I first fed you solid food, but I'll never forget how much you loved apple sauce, sweet potatoes, and bananas. I'll never forget the way you would feed the dogs your Cheerios, and giggle when they licked your chubby little hands from the side of the high chair.

I might not remember the exact time of your first smile or first laugh, but I'll never forget the way you twirled your hair on the top of your head when you were sleepy, or stuck your tiny fingers in my mouth while you nursed, or the way your little lips would keep right on sucking, long after the pacifier fell out of your mouth while you slept.

You all hated the booger sucker, bottles, and tummy time. You loved the songs your daddy sang to you, and the way he gently petaled your legs back and forth when you were gassy. He cradled you in his arms, face down, the way a receiver carries a football, and walked you up and down the hallway so you could "look for pennies" on the floor. It was your favorite way to be held when you were fussy.

No matter how early or late you achieved your milestones, your dad and I thought you were the most brilliant, most beautiful, most amazing human beings ever made, and we spent hours admiring you, wondering how on earth we got so blessed.

The pages of your books are blank, but the pages in my mind are overflowing with every detail of your precious little lives. I was soaking up all of those tiny treasures that make life grand, and didn't have the inclination to pick up the pen at the risk of losing the moment.

Well, that will make you ball and beg your husband for another baby first thing in the morning. I did good with Buster's baby book, but with the twins I don't remember much. Survival mode was in full swing with those two. Loved this post!

Absolutely wonderful. I only had one child and his baby is not well done. I did do a scrapbook that did his life by themes and gave it to him for his high school graduation. I also kept a book of his "words of wisdom" and sent that out in a Christmas card when he was 17!! Keep up the wonderful workCarol Lee

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Family

Calves

About Me

I'm a whole-hearted homemaker who adores my family, and has an insatiable urge to write about the random everyday events of our life. We raise kids and cattle, and love our simple life in the mountains!